To Engage in Piracy
by SarahDepp232
Summary: A modern girl wakes up in an adventurous yet entirely disorienting world of piracy with the only bearable aspect being the unusual, very infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.
1. Surprise Meeting

A/N: Hellloooo, out there. D I've been working on this story for a few months now. I've critiqued it endlessly, and I think these first few chapters are ready to put up. It does get better within the next chapter, believe me. This first meeting was hard to write, but I feel the characters begin to fall together within Chapter Two – Just read, and you may like it. Oh, and also, I don't own _Pirates of the Caribbean _or any of the characters in it, but _of course _I have to make the expected joke and say I wish I did own Captain Jack. Thanks! - xoxo - Sarah

SUMMARY: A modern girl wakes up in an unimaginably different world – the _Black Pearl_. She experiences a adventurous yet emotional road of piracy with the only bright side of it being the unusual, very infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

CHAPTER ONE - Surprise Meeting

The day sucked. I must have dropped every single one of my books in the hallways of the zoo they call a school at least one time each. I spilled my iced tea all over the nerd table at lunch, embarrassing not only them but me, and earning a detention for it. Finally, as an added bonus after my oh-so-very-idealistic day, I found out I'd had locked my keys in my car and had to walk home _after _detention.

By then, I didn't even want to go out tonight. My friends and I had made plans to see a movie and hang out in general, maybe spend the rest of the night at my friend's house. Since the school year had started, I'd been spreading myself way too thin. Between classes, my parents, college pressures from teachers, and my friends, I had very little time to myself, but this day, especially, blew, and I was in no mood. Luckily, I got out of it easily.

That night, I grabbed a comforter and some popcorn, then gratefully slipped a Keanu Reeves movie into the DVD player down in the family room. My parents had just left to pick my sister up from college more than an hour away – and it was safe to say the night was mine.

But it was _so _not my night. Not my night at all.

I woke up to a particularly rough stranger with even rougher hands. He was a tan, dark-eyed man in dirty, old-fashioned apparel. I was assaulted immediately by the smell of salt water. The man was patting my cheek with a wet hand. I backed away, reaching for my comforter to ward him off with. . .but there was no comforter. No pleasant Keanu on the television screen. . .no television!

"She lives, then," he drawled, squinting as if to really examine my face. "Tell me, what're ye doin' in the belly of me ship, 'ere, little one?"

_Ship? Is he crazy? _

I searched my mind, trying to place what I had been doing before falling asleep. I wasn't crazy, though, and I knew I had been in my home. This place? – Not my home. It was a ship, according to the guy with gentle, brown eyes who was too close for my own comfort.

I opened my mouth, forming a question I didn't have planned, "Your ship?"

"Yes, me ship. We've been sailing for a good long while now. Unless ye, my dear, have been dabblin' a bit in the old-fashioned black magic, it's quite a mystery to me how you've come to be here."

I noticed first how he gestured with every word. Black magic? Dabblin'? Who was this guy – and why was he wearing eyeliner?

"This isn't funny," I shot back to him, trying to cover my skin, as I was only wearing a tank top and sweatpants. Fear started mounting in my body. I couldn't possibly be on a ship. I don't even live by the coast. I'm from Pennsylvania for goodness sakes.

"If ye are in fact a stowaway – and I don't welcome stowaways very well – you've certainly not made yourself very comfortable and seeing as me pride and joy, the _Black Pearl_, has got all of the attributes of a comfortable ship, you, my dear, must be quite confused," he explained, far too proud.

"At least tell me who you are?" I asked.

He smiled, leaning back on his heels and spreading his arms dramatically. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

. . ._So, clearly, he'd practiced that. _

I snorted, unimpressed. "Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Jack looked offended. Before he could reply, I put my hand up. "You're the captain?" I asked, beginning to make my way around the room. It was not incredibly spacious, and held no semblance of cleanliness. But, this was definitely a ship, he wasn't lying.

I turned and laughed just a bit, only to find him watching me closely as if I would steal something. Like there is anything valuable here, I thought. "Okay, and by the way you're dressed, I'm guessing you're – what? A pirate?"

Jack nodded once, firmly, pressing his shoulders back. "Pirate captain." He tilted his head, tugging at the two braids on his chin. "And what's your name?"

"Carrie," I answered miserably.

"So, Carolyn, then."

"No. Carrie – just Carrie."

"Carrie-Anne?" he attempted.

I nearly shouted, "Carrie."

"Karen?" he teased again, serious as can be.

I opened my mouth, beginning to advance on him, but settled back when a smile creased his face. I almost chuckled, but instead I frowned. "So, I'm on a pirate ship and you're clearly not from my time. . ."

"And ye, not from mine," he replied, scanning me.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. I heard some shouting above us. "Fellow pirates?" I asked, dreading it. I had seen the movies.

"The best. And only the best," Jack said, moving toward me. For the first time, I was able to observe his lazy gait. The way he moved with gentle sways and bent elbows was almost entrancing.

"Okay – try this one again. . .I'm on a pirate ship called the Black Pearl, with the best crew of pirates, and your name's Jack, the captain?" I asked, incredulous.

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow," he corrected quickly. "You've got to bring it together, or else there's no effect, which is quite pointless, really."

I paused, shaking my head. I was one for logic, and this resembled it not even remotely. I played my situation once more in my mind and found no solution. I would die before I let him see the tears in my eyes. I spun away from him, crossing my arms. Was it a dream? Some sort of distorted nightmare with unbelievable realism. I reached out and touched the desk – felt the wood, and spun around again.

I pinched myself, then strode toward him, and pinched him.

"Bloody. . .!" He cut himself off and reached up to his chest where I'd pinched him. "What was that for?"

"You're real," I replied.

"Yes, noticed that," Jack said sarcastically, falling back into the shaky chair, spreading his legs straight out and bringing his hands up behind his head. He leaned back on two legs of the chair, and I found myself momentarily admiring him.

"Well, love, I've got bad news. Ye, my dear, are stuck here alone with ole' Jack and me mates, so I'll attempt to the best of my ability to make ye comfortable and safe so long as you're 'board me grand _Black Pearl_." He grinned and raised his eyebrows once.

"Safe? What am I gonna do, fall overboard?"

"Ye forgot, love – pirates." He gave a wink and I shifted uncomfortably.

In that moment, I wanted to be home. I wanted to be anywhere but here on a ship in the middle of. . .

"And where exactly are we?"

The pirate smirked, and I noticed a flash of golden teeth. "Why, we're sailing the sparklin' seas of the Caribbean, love." Jack threw his arms up, and he was almost magically on his feet. He sauntered toward me, hands flailing controllably about him. "Got somewhere you need to be?"

I nodded. "Actually, _yes_, I do."

Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. "I see. Well, there's nothing but sea for miles – So!" His exclamation was so sudden, I nearly jumped from my skin. He clapped his hands together and leaned forward, entwining his fingers together, suddenly serious. "You're not a stowaway. . ."

I rolled my eyes. "No. Not a stowaway. You think I want to be here?"

He fondled a trinket that had been planted in his black hair. "Well, then, Carrie-me-dove, you are in quite the dilemma, as it turns out."

"Yeah, you think?" I murmured to myself, shaking my head.

I paced as panic rose up through my stomach and swirled up to my throat in a monstrous onslaught.

"Careful, love. We don't want you to wear a trench in the floor, now, do we? This is a ship, after all."

I paused and darted my finger toward him. "I'm not your 'love'."

"Right, then – lass."

"Or your lass."

He arched his brow. "It's settled, then. You'll be my Carrie-Anne."

I couldn't take the time to notice what he was saying. I had to get home. What would my parents think? They were probably going crazy by now. 'Sorry, mom, I was just stuck on this pirate ship in the middle of the Caribbean sea with an unimaginably attractive pirate and his loud, reckless crew.' Yeah. That would go over well.

I brought my hands up to my shoulder-length dark hair and groaned. I spun slowly, determined and hopeful. His hands toyed in front of him, his face expectant.

In all seriousness and near desperation, I spoke, "I need your help."

He blinked and began to smirk. "All right." His drawled speech did not disappear even in his nearly silent understanding. I admired him in that moment. "Got a bit skittish there for a moment."

"Yeah. Sorry. Just. . .crazy." I shivered in the plain, dusty cabin.

There was another uproar of shouts above us on the deck and I cringed. "Okay, so, for the 'best' crew ever, they sure don't get along," I laughed, peering up at him.

Jack sighed and shook his head. "I think it'd be best if you stayed here. Fair enough, I'd wager?"

"Oh, yeah," I replied quickly. "Really not looking forward to facing the crew of rowdy, filthy men. No offense."

"Get comfortable," he suggested, moving out of the cabin with masculine grace.

I could heard his shouts even as he made it to the upper deck.

"All ya' scurvy dogs'll be swabbin' the deck!"


	2. Caribbean Storms

A/N: Ooh! A storm – always exciting. Please R&R! D

CHAPTER TWO - Caribbean Storms

I don't remember falling asleep. Needless to say, waking up to the gentle rocking of the ship was quite a surprise. I was convinced as I opened my eyes that I had just been stuck in a dream. A sharp sense of relief plucked its way through my conscience. . .and then, disappeared.

I heard the crew. The shouts, the curses and the heavy crashes. Still, there was some hidden calm on the ship you could find nowhere else.

I groaned, still facing the wall. Startled, I realized I had slid beneath Jack's blankets. Repulsed as I was, sleeping in a stranger's bed, I was not denied a sense of comfort.

As I began to slip back into generous unconsciousness, I felt another blanket fall on top of me and warm hands tuck it near my shoulders. I immediately closed my eyes when I heard whispering voices fill the room.

"It's risky bad luck to 'ave a lady 'board, Cap'n," a raspy male voice said.

"Apparently she doesn't remember how she got 'ere." I recognized the voice of Jack.

"But, Cap –"

"Gibbs." Jack became stern. "She's stayin'. Let the rest know. Tell them if they try anythin', they'll may as well drop themselves over to the sharks. Savvy?"

I heard Gibbs' heavy sigh and his footfalls as he left Jack's cabin. I stayed still, unsure if the captain had followed. Someone leaned over me and I hesitantly opened my eyes. When I rolled over, grinning openly above me was Jack.

"Looks like you've, in fact, made yourself quite comfortable."

I sat up, very much uncomfortable. "Yeah. Sorry. How long have I been asleep?"

"Only 'bout an hour or so."

"Guess I was more tired then I thought."

"Oh, no, love, get used to it." He spread his arms and shrugged. "You'll be here for the next few nights, I'd suppose."

My eyes widened and I stood quickly, folding my arms over my tank top. "But there's only one bed."

". . .There's a chair," he said dully, as if I hadn't noticed.

"I am not sleeping on a chair."

Jack Sparrow grinned mischievously. "There's room enough for the two of us."

_Yeah, right_, I thought. However, he knew I was about to protest, so he slunk toward me. "Time to meet the crew, then. But, for your own sake, cover yourself a bit more."

I reached for the blanket, but he slipped a plain white shirt over my shoulders. "There you are," Jack said, smiling.

I frowned, looking down at the shirt sizes too big. "I look like a man."

"In the company of pirates, me darlin', it's a blessing." Jack gave a nonchalant wink and slipped an arm around me. We shuffled out of the room and I stuck close to the captain as we ascended the stairs leading to the deck. He moved ahead of me, and I felt everything rise to my throat. I began to walk more slowly.

In my nervousness, it took me a long moment to catch my voice. "Wait, Jack," I murmured, quietly. He barely noticed. I reached up and grabbed a handful of his black jacket that I hadn't seen him wearing before now. He spun quickly, instinctively, staring down at me, as he was perched on the top step.

"I don't want to," I said, shrinking back down into the darkness. "Not after your grand tales. No way."

Jack's face fell and he sighed apologetically. "They're really not all that bad."

"They're pirates," I replied, unable to contemplate why he would debate that notion.

Jack shrugged. "Yes – as am I."

I sighed. He had a point. Jack had been nothing but nice to me since I first woke up, I could at least give him that.

When I didn't speak, Jack slipped his hand out and I took it with hesitance.

_No turning back now_.

Before I even stepped foot onto the deck, I could see the torn, black sails. I felt like I was in a movie, or like I was moving outside of my body in some sort of odd daydream. The ship was ghostly and horrifying – but the view of the open sea was breathtaking.

I kept our hands interlocked at his side and my front, wedging myself nearly against his back and his right arm. It was harder to walk on the upper deck. The roguish men around me seemed to nearly float on the deck, taking it's gentle swaying with them – Jack, above all. It were as if that flamboyant sauntering of his had come from the waves themselves. It took me a moment to regain control of my footing.

The pirates were working hard. Each had jobs, and performed them remarkably and swiftly. As distracted as they were to see a female move across their deck, the men quickly fell back on task.

It wasn't long before the sun finally showed pity on me. Between the glaring brightness and the glowering pirates who seemed to both question my placement and eye me up at the same time, this was definitely the most uncomfortable situation I would ever be in. I can't quite remember how Jack managed to squirm away from me and make it to his beloved wheel, where a female pirate had been previously steering. "All yours, Cap'n," I heard her say. "Looks like there may be a storm ahead."

_So that's why it was so hard to walk_.

Since I no longer had Jack to keep steady, I held onto the side of the ship.

The sky's blue-white tint darkened to a blue-grey. I felt the air stiffen around me and grow considerably condensed. The humidity grew unbearable – and I could tell it was about to peak. In the distance, there was a tremendous rumbling that seemingly rocked the waves and the men above. I heard Jack shout, but I couldn't make out his words.

I ducked down against the side of the ship, unable to stand on my own feet.

"Uh – Jack!" I shouted, feeling the black clouds above me break with a powerful groan and shed tumultuous raindrops onto the _Pearl _and the surrounding ocean.

Pirates tugged on ropes, and adjusted the torn, black sails. A few of them slid across the deck, but weren't down for more then a second. The ship lurched with unrestrained violence.

"Aye, Captain!" the crew chorused in reply to a command I didn't hear.

"Jack!"

I covered my head and shrunk close to the side of the ship, prepared for the worst. It was only a storm. _A really, really bad storm in the middle of the Caribbean – on a ship with torn sails_, I considered. Waves sailed over the sides of the ship and poured on top of me in heavy, freezing buckets. I tasted the sharp salt on my tongue and felt it irritate my eyes. I choked, crawling out into the middle of the deck, desperate for shelter from the probing chaos. Where were those steps that led down to his cabin?

I called for Jack one more time, but it was useless. One of the pirates must've kicked me accidentally, because my ribs were struck sharply and I suddenly couldn't find my breath.

_Jack!_

I can remember nothing but pain the moment my head thudded against the deck. I blinked once, saw a flash of lightening, and slipped into the contrasting darkness.

I woke up on the _Black Pearl _for the third time. This time was different, though, because I was alone. It was dark and unpleasantly silent. The massive ship rocked calmly on the waves, and the wall aligning the right side of the bed was seemingly emanating crisp air. I could barely see my own hand in front of my face, and I really do not bode well with such darkness.

I sat straight up – but fell right back down against the pillows. I cursed beneath my breath and swallowed past the lump in my throat. I had nearly forgotten about my earlier encounter. I don't know how. My ribs ached with constant, prickling reminders that made my hands grasp the pillowcase. I groaned miserably to myself, but sharp pain thudded inside of my head. I reached up to lightly touch my forehead when my hands slid across a bandage. _So that's what knocked me out. _

I bit my trembling lip and stifled a quiet sob. Up until now, everything had been entirely delusional – some sort of wispy dimension of complete nothingness that tied in with the dream reality that I'd somehow gotten sucked into. But, this – now — this was no innocent dream reality with fantastical pirates and ships. This was some nightmarish hell place. I'd never lived in such a world, but I knew I wanted out.

There was a powerful thud against the door and I fought against the pain to stumble to my feet. I dragged myself to the desk on the other side of the room and hefted a heavy, leather-bound book into my hands.

"What're ya doin' lurkin' outside me cabin, 'ere, matey?"

I heard Jack's gritted voice, attempting to keep his anger in place and quiet, and I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I heard his opponent stumble through a messy sentence and there was unsteady silence outside of the door. I heard a final apology from the man before the doorknob twisted.

I fell tiredly against the desk, my ribs stinging with newly instilled pain.

Jack appeared in the doorway, silhouetted by the bit of candlelight just outside of the cabin. He didn't speak at that moment, but instead plucked the candle from outside and let its' light fill the room. I cursed the light for allowing Jack to see me in my pants and his white shirt, propped ridiculously against the large wooden desk.

When I tilted my head up to meet his eyes in the quiet, dim room, I came to see a face I barely recognized. Concern flickered in his dark, deep eyes and his distinct jaw showed no emotion. The corners of his mouth trembled undecidedly – he was contemplating his words.

I flicked my wrist up, silencing him. "I know. Big, old 'sorry' for not getting to the damsel before she nearly drowned to death."

Sincerity clouded his expression. "I did all I could, love. I thought you'd gone off below deck."

"Yeah. Would've if I could've found exactly where that was." My voice wasn't quite sharp enough to let him know I'd felt completely abandoned, but my point was across.

Jack stepped closer. I nearly fell apart when he reached a calloused hand up to trace the bandage along my brow. I blinked beneath his touch as he slid his hands purposely down my shoulders and gripped my upper arms to stand me up carefully. "So, what was that about? One of the boys looking to play nursemaid for the injured?"

I glanced over at him and saw the darkness slip across his face. "S'not gonna happ'n, if you're worried 'bout them tryin' anythin'. I've already warned them, love." His face lightened a bit and he winked soothingly. "Captain's orders."

I slipped my legs beneath the blankets. He reached behind me to place the pillows comfortably. "There you are," he murmured thoughtfully. "You should be good as new in the morning." He leaned down and planted a kiss to my forehead quite unexpectedly. I watched just until he settled back into the shifty chair feet away from the bed.

"Cap'n Jack's watchin' over you, now, love."


	3. Raiding and Rum

Chapter Three - Raiding and Rum

I slept peacefully at first. The darkness seemed to become quite inviting and pleasant with the presence of another – but nervous discomfort took precedence over the mellowness. Discontent tugged at me, taking advantage of my unconsciousness. My dreams were invaded with visions. Visions of the violent storm, the ship and myself being crushed and devoured by the savage ocean. My ribs began to hurt as I realized I was thrashing against the strong waves.

"Stop. . ."

I heard Jack's voice in the distance. I searched for him, but there was only dark, cold blackness, and I was losing complete focus. My legs were numb, I couldn't fight the waves much longer. There were mere seconds left before the water would suffocate me.

_He's going to let me drown. Jack's going to let me die_.

"Carrie, stop. . .!"

I held onto him this time. I held onto his voice with everything I had.

And when I found him, I was in his arms, barely breathing. My chest was tight with the pain that vibrated through my ribs. I buried my face in his shoulder and gripped the back of his shirt.

"Breathe, love, will you?" he urged quietly.

"I thought I was dead. I thought I drowned and I was dead," I managed.

"You didn't drown, you're not dead, I'm right here." Jack kept an arm firmly around my back and used the other hand to cradle my face close to his. "Have you got that? Right 'ere." He swept his hand along my jaw and smiled a golden smile. "Bruised ribs, drownin' nightmares. . .still haven't shed a tear."

I breathed steadily, becoming empowered by his proud words. The tears that had been creeping up my throat and flooded my eyes dried and returned to the pit of my stomach. The intense moment began to fall and my hands let go of the fists of shirt I held as I leaned slowly out of his embrace.

My arm found its way around my ribs and I chuckled lightly. It hurt like hell to laugh, but I felt like it was my only choice. He had been watching me expectantly and things were already bad enough. I met his eyes, wanting to see them dancing with that lively glint they'd possessed when I'd first woken up on his ship – but, it was nowhere to be found. Jack could see right through my facade. Faking it was useless. He stared at me with deep, probing eyes, unveiling countless possibilities.

"You don't need to hide anythin' from me, Carrie."

"I don't even know you, Jack," I replied quietly.

"No. No, ye don't. . ."

I watched him, expecting more. But I was right – I didn't know him. Not in the least bit. But he helped me, he took me in – and this man was a pirate.

Suddenly, he raised his eyebrows, seemingly shaking off the conversation. His lips spread into a smile and he clapped his hands together. "Now, ye've got a decision. We'll be stoppin' at this next port comin' up. I'm almos' out of me prized liquor."

My brow creased. Prized liquor?

"Rum, me dear."

"And what's this decision?"

This time, he hesitated. "Well. . .do you want off?"

It took me a moment to realize what he was asking. Off? Off the _Black Pearl_? My eyes went wide and I shot to my feet. "Do I want off? How can you ask me that? No!"

Jack shrunk away just a bit, surprised at my vehemence.

"You just expect me to find my way home by myself?" My arm gestures expressed most of my emotion.

He grabbed my arms in his hands and laid them to my side. "Now, that's not good to do – you'll hurt yourself."

I pulled my arms from his grasp and sighed. "I don't need you to take care of me, Jack," I muttered.

"Very well, then. Do not leave this room."

I rolled my eyes slightly when he turned to leave the room. I took one more glance around the dull cabin and sighed heavily. As much as I really didn't want to go back up onto that deck, I wasn't staying down in that hole any longer.

"Jack?" I followed after him, whipping the door back open, only to hear him far up the steps, bellowing something about the anchor. There was no way I was running up onto the deck without knowing he would be waiting for me. I didn't even know if I was accepted by any of Jack's crew yet. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Opening my mouth, I let out the most ragged, desperate shout I could've managed. "Jack!"

I watched for him, and just as I'd expected, he reappeared at the top of the steps as fast as a bullet. Very dully, I blinked and shrugged. "I'm going with you."

He let out an aggravated groan and twisted his shoulders in a sort of childish manner. The pirates around him stormed past, seemingly abandoning the ship. "Well, c'mon. . .?" he urged, waving his arm.

I smiled a bit and took the stairs two at a time. He watched me with no amusement. I scoffed and linked my arm with his when I reached the deck. "So. We're buying some rum and then back to sailing the high seas with absolutely no surprising, rip-roaring adventure except getting me home, right?"

"Correct. 'Cept for the buying part. . ." Jack replied.

I tugged my arm that had been entwined with his. "You're just gonna storm a bar and steal it?"

"No. I'm gonn' _raid _a tavern and _plunder _barrels of me rum. " Jack smiled. "Still fancy joinin' me, love?"

I frowned and crossed my arms. I knew what he wanted me to say. Glancing over the side of the ship, I got a full view of the town. It was complete insanity. I immediately heard the unavoidable music, barely drowning out the drunken shouts of the town's residents, and by the look of the sky, I'd gathered that it was around late afternoon.

"Uh, Jack? Where are we?"

"Tortuga, love."

"Well, you can go raid Tortuga alone, because I'm not going."

Jack sighed a throaty sigh and pulled me closer to him, casually whispering, "Go back to me cabin, don't open the door for anyone but me, savvy?"

I glanced behind me, realizing that most of the crew still remained, among them a gentlemanly-looking man with grey sideburns that smiled heartily at Jack.

"That's Gibbs. He'll watch after you while I'm gone."

I frowned. "The one that says it's bad luck to have a woman aboard?"

Jack's brow creased. "That's Gibbs, alright. How'd you know?"

"Never mind." I waved him off and began my tread back down the stairs. "Be careful, Jack."

He smirked. "Pirate, love."

For the rest of the night, it was nearly impossible to sleep. I heard the rest of the crew boarding the ship and there was an unimaginable uprise the moment Jack's orders began. He was unusually loud tonight, but when the ship began to move with a massive groan, I was very much relieved. It was unnerving staying in one spot for hours like that.

Every time I would drift even slightly to sleep, some loud crash or curse would send me back into complete consciousness. "Damn pirates," I murmured, tugging the pillow over my head. "Don't you sleep?"

The doorknob rattled loudly and I rolled onto my side. "Go away," I nearly growled.

"Jest good ol' Jack, me darlin'. Open up for Jack," he drawled through the door.

_Oh good_, I thought sarcastically. _He's drunk_.

I sighed and walked to the door, shaking my head the entire time, getting visions of Jack leaning on the door and falling to my feet when I opened it. No such luck, though, because when I opened the door, he was taking a messy swig of his "prized liquor," while his other arm flailed about.

"Attractive," I muttered sarcastically.

"Like wot' ye see, do ye, love?" Jack stumbled past me, moving to the bed in drunken strides. "Can ne'er have 'nough of ol' Jack, aye?"

I watched with controlled amusement as he fondled the blanket on his bed. He sighed pleasantly, and I realized immediately what he was about to do. Quickly, I lunged toward him. "Oh, no you don't!" I used the momentum of my final leap to sweep him up from his spot halfway lying on the bed and spin him into a standing position. My ribs ached uncomfortably, and he was lucky I'd begun to heal. "I get the bed tonight."

He chuckled and dragged his forearm up onto my shoulder. I nearly lost my balance, as he rested much of his weight there. "I've no prob'em sharin'."

"Well, I do," I replied, batting his arm off my shoulder. "Besides, you're drunk. What does it matter where you sleep? It's not like you're going to remember it tomorrow morning."

"Aye! I'm very much drunk, Carrie-me-love, which is all the more the reason why you should share the bed with yer cap'n. . ."

For having lost most of his motor skills to rum, he sure did argue well. And it was no use arguing with a drunk. Forfeiting, I sighed. "You can have the bed. . ." I poked him hard in the chest with my index finger. "Just tonight, Mr. Sparrow."

"Captain, love." He grabbed my shoulders and shook them lightly with each word. "Captain. Jack. Sparrow." Jack raised his bottle of rum, took another sip, and tossed the empty bottle to the ground. "Right, then – sharing the bed it is!"

In one swift motion, Jack swept his arm around my waist and dropped heavily down onto the bed, his left arm resting on my back, leaving me immobile. "Jack, you ignorant drunk, did you just forget about my injuries?" I questioned, smacking his shoulder with my hand. Either he ignored me, or he was truly asleep, but within seconds, Captain Jack Sparrow was pleasantly snoring.


	4. Long Night and the Galley

Chapter Four - Long Nights and the Galley

Lying awake beneath Jack's arm was the absolute longest hour of my life. I was either staring at the ceiling or being used as a pillow when he decided to lash out and change positions. He really wasn't the calmest sleeper, and sleeping next to him in the tiny bed didn't feel extremely safe.

. . .But, somehow, at the same time, it did. It made all the sense in the world, staying close to him. He was a powerful man. Trapped on a pirate ship, far from home in some distant realm, yet lying here next to Captain Jack Sparrow was the most natural, protected place I could've imagined.

I cringed when he began to stir again. He rolled onto his belly and threw his left arm across my stomach, tucking his hand around my hip. "Jack, Jack, Jack," I murmured, rolling my eyes. I noticed his red bandana had slipped off of his head sometime during the night.

"Me. . .blasted rum. Where 'ave ye gone?" Jack grumbled into my shoulder.

"Jack and his alcohol," I thought aloud to myself. "He even dreams about it."

When Jack's head tilted toward me, near my shoulder, I glanced down at him. "Finally. I've been awake for more than an hour."

He smiled slowly, untangling himself from me. We stretched simultaneously. "Ye could've managed your way out of bed."

"Yeah, right. Every time I tried you just pushed me closer to the wall or cuddled like there was no tomorrow."

There was a slight pause, and I rolled my head to the left to watch him tie his bandana back onto his head. There was a drunken glimmer to his motions and I briefly thought that perhaps he didn't sleep it off entirely. I sighed and crossed my arms across my stomach. "What was your life like, Jack?" I asked, quite personally.

He seemed a bit startled and then thoughtful for a moment as he mentally debated whether or not to share. I was surprised when he rolled to his left and onto his feet. He turned and faced me, leaning forward with his hands on the bed. Squinting, the pirate smirked, "That's a story for another time, love."

"I just wanna know about you, Jack. I mean, I'm a curious person, and it's not often you have the opportunity to meet someone like you."

Jack glanced at me and smirked. "Is that correct?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so full of yourself. You just seem like this. . .really well-  
traveled person. And, come on, being a pirate – I mean, it has to suck. Seems to me like you're trapped on a ship, sail for weeks at a time. . ."

"Months," he corrected.

"Months. You do nothing but hope you have enough food to survive, drink way too much, and shoot your canons at other ships."

"There's a lot more to piracy than that," Jack explained, using his arms to portray his earnestness as he moved toward me with the relaxed stride that I could only describe as 'sashaying'. "It's not all rum and death and carnage or even looking for a bit o' female company at the next port. There's very much more to pirating." His arms fell, but his expression brightened. "But, you can only see for yerself, love. Afraid you must wait till tonight. In the meantime – are ye hungry?"

"Yes!" I replied, getting to my feet with no delay.

"I'll scamper over to the galley, bring you somethin' back, aye?"

"No." My expression completely changed. "I don't want to be cooped up here, Jack. It's so bleak and depressing. . .and have you thought about getting some flowers or something down here?"

"The galley's nothin' to see either, love," Jack smiled, snatching his pirate hat from his desk and throwing his heavy, dark jacket over his arm.

Realizing that he was prepared to leave me behind, I moved to catch up with him. "I want to go." What was his problem? He'd been like this since the storm.

Jack glanced at me over his shoulder, watching me with knowingly concerned eyes, begging me to trust him. I saw his eyes glaze regrettably over the bandage above my right eye. Had he been blaming himself for this? It was the very moment when I understood him best. The moment that made me wonder just which of his crew he didn't entirely trust. Still, I wasn't staying behind.

I tried to match his honest intensity. "I can defend myself, Jack. And I'm not glass, you know. Besides, how much safer can a girl get than with the captain?"

Compared to how nervous I'd been to first meet his crew, I was surprised at just how anxious I was to face them all. Although, at the moment, anything was better than sitting in the cabin alone with nothing to do but read navigation books.

When Jack jerked his head subtly toward the hallway, I smiled in triumph, proud that I'd been able to convince the very obstinate Captain Jack Sparrow. With no further discussion where he could possibly change his mind, Jack lead me out of his cabin and down the hall.

"We're running low on supplies. Prob'ly stop tomorrow morning if we make good time."

"Let me guess. You're going to 'plunder' that, too?" I questioned.

The galley was quite narrow, almost like a wall with protruding counter space and cabinets. It was clean enough, but very much limited to its' use. Off to the side was a rickety table with four equally wobbly chairs. Jack wasted no time retrieving a bowl from the counter top filled with fruit. I took an apple from the top of the pile and watched as Jack dropped the bowl back onto the table.

As he returned to the cabinet for what I could only assume to be a bottle of rum, I sat gently as possible into one of the chairs. When Jack plopped into the chair with no hindrance, I waited to see the legs of the unstable chair collapse beneath him.

"W'ot?" he questioned, unsure as to why I'd been observing him.

It was only a moment later when the female pirate I'd noticed just before the storm entered the galley. She appeared quite harsh. Her dark hair was tied at her neck and her clothing was large and baggy. I couldn't imagine being the only female on a pirate ship, but I assume she was respected by the others as a pirate. The woman barely acknowledged me.

"Anna Maria," Jack smiled, treating her intentionally more as a lady than as a pirate.

"Cap'n," she offered, with as much, or maybe more friendliness. He seemed to have a much better relationship with the woman of the _Pearl_. I was momentarily curious, and at the same time a bit jealous.

"Aye, this is Carrie." Jack reached over and pinched my arm lightly as some signal of introduction.

"Aye," Anne Maria said, nodding her head toward me.

"An' this is Anna Maria. Ol' dependable Anna Maria. . ." Jack squinted those kohl-lined eyes and smirked appreciatively. He watched intently as the female pirate swiped an apple from the fruit bowl and retreated down the hall.

Casually, I shifted in the chair and considered my words. "So. . ." I shrugged. "You talk to all your pirate 'mateys' that. . .I don't know. . .politely? I thought you were a pirate?"

Jack frowned. "What do you mean?" My stomach dropped when he began to smile. ". . .A wee bit jealous, are we, love? 'Nother female 'board – it can git a little cattish, aye?"

"What? No," I reassured him quickly. "That's not what I meant."

"That so?" Jack challenged, his eyes aglow.

"Come on. Don't be so full of yourself, Jack."

Jack leaned back in the chair, lifting his feet onto the table and swishing the rum around in the bottle. "Ah – now, there's your mistake, lass. You have assumed I meant jealous of my reactions toward the lovely Anna Maria, which you now have unintentionally relayed to me your admittance. What if my presumption of jealousy had been only of being the second female 'board the _Pearl_? 'Only female' – now that is quite a title."

It took me a moment to contemplate why this pirate was being so complex, but I understood it was only his mischief, and his utter control of the situation, which he endlessly craved. I found myself peering at him, trying to make sense of his entire being. He was so intriguing, like some sort of obscure puzzle with missing pieces. Pieces I was determined to find.

Unaware that I'd been thinking aloud, I found myself muttering, "You're hard to figure out."

"You, as well," Jack replied, uncrossing his feet and dropping them off the table. He leaned in toward me, running his hand across my cheek and through a strand of my hair. "Believe me – I've tried."

I searched for my voice. "Just ask, Jack. I'm right here."

"You're not."

Exasperated, I tugged myself from the moment, trying to forget he was invading my space. "You're the one that's pulling away, Jack. You're the one with the secrets."

"Just a few more hours, love. And then it's your turn." Jack winked and downed the last bit of rum.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone - Captain-Aimee, white rose-black stems, and InToDepp, who stayed with me for three chapters. D It certainly gives me some initiative.

Au revoir! - Sarah


	5. Lightness and Darkness of Piracy

Chapter Five - Lightness and Darkness of Piracy

The horizon was unblemished. A dull, orangish sun sat pleasantly in the sky, casting the day's last hour of light upon the calm ocean surface. I was nothing but a tiny speck in this enormous world – and it was absolutely diminishing. I'd never felt more intimidated in my life. Standing innocently near the bow of the ship, looking for some trace of human life, I knew I was alone.

The pirates were resting, and the ship was momentarily peaceful. Few men still remained on the deck. I noticed Jack sitting at a table Gibbs had carried up from below deck earlier that afternoon. The pirate captain must've been engaging in some sort of debatable conversation because his voice would rise just a bit when he'd slam his hand down on the table.

It wasn't much of a surprise when a fight broke out – the surprise was in that it wasn't where the heated conversation had been occurring. Closer to me, two pirates who I didn't recognize had drawn their swords. It was quite subtle, and it happened faster than I could've ever imagined. The first man's sword whipped swiftly through the air, slicing the other pirates throat with his promising blade. For a moment, I thought it was fake and at that very second, I would awaken in my bed.

Blood spattered the deck. The blade reflected tainted light and the pirate's own blood glistened with unexplainable malevolence. Emotions I'd never experienced tore through my conscience. I felt myself tumble off my own feet and stumble backward. My vision clouded just as the man's dead body thudded to the deck. A puddle of blood spilled from his neck. His dead eyes stared at me.

"Carrie!"

Jack's shout registered in my mind, but I suppose it was too late, because in the next moment, I was in the air and the ocean was rushing toward me. Every one of my muscles tightened when I hit the water. My ribs felt like they broke one by one. I opened my mouth to scream in pain, but was instead choked by saltwater. I stayed above the water, catching my breath and trying to forget the brutal slaying I'd just witnessed.

When Jack dove straight into the water next to me, I used his shoulder to hold myself up, giving my legs a rest. I felt his arm latch around my waist.

"They're hoistin' us up, all right, love? Hold onto me."

I did as he asked, hugging him to me, with my hands laced around his back. He must have done most of the lifting, because when we were propelled out of the water, I lost all of my senses as the cool wind hit my wet skin.

I landed softly against the deck. I didn't breathe for a moment, and could only move when I felt Jack get to his feet next to me. My neck rolled to the right and my cheek was against the cool deck. Breathing steadily, I opened my eyes, catching sight of the corpse only feet away from me. For a moment, I was that corpse, but this kind of life was about fighting. Possessing the strength to gain control of myself, I pushed myself to my feet and swayed only once.

A few of the pirates still at the table chuckled. I glared daggers their way. My confidence drowned when Jack pulled me against him into a hug, using himself to shield me. It was then I realized that his white shirt had been lost somewhere in the fall, and I was left only in my tiny tank top. Gibbs handed Jack his black, knee-length jacket and he pulled it over my shoulders.

I shoved my shoulder into Jack's chest, humiliated and overwhelmed. "I told you. I don't need you to take care of me. . ."

I was unable to meet his gaze. When I took off past the snickering pirates and down the stairs to the cabins, I realized my bruised ribs were hurt a bit more than I'd been anticipating.

Much to my dismay, the door to Jack's cabin was locked. I spotted a few pirates making their way to the galley and I was in no mood for awkward company. The only place to reside that I could find was near the bottom of the stairs.

From my spot seated on the bottom step, I heard the men drop the body into the ocean. I planted my head in my hands, afraid for my life. Where had that pirate who had killed that man gone? There surely were others just like him – maybe Jack. It wasn't like he was actually letting me in.

Wearing only Jack's jacket draped over my shoulders, a measly tank top and old pajama pants, my arms and legs were shaking. As a pirate would occasionally pass me, I pretended to be content and bold. They would remain quiet mostly, or let out a single, short grunt that was supposed to intimidate or taunt me in some way. The moment I would fall into my quiet pensiveness, I was once again interrupted.

"Look, mate – she ain't got 'er brave ol' capt'n with her. For once." He was disgusting and toothless, and he was way too close for my own comfort. Another snickering, sniveling, little jerk chuckled behind him, posing ridiculously as the silent, so-called "cheerleader" of the instigator. Needless to say, I wasn't amused.

Crossing my arms, I got to my feet, subtly making sure the black jacket covered me entirely. "Shut up."

"Stuck all alone on a pirate ship – big, bad pirates all 'round."

I shook my head, unable to place the face I was eyeing. "Are you the one who killed that man?"

"Jus' so 'appens I've killed many of men. So, I'll need a bit more than that." He smiled a revolting, lopsided grin.

"Just now – on the deck. Was that you?"

The pirate straightened up and stamped his foot, glancing back to glare at the other man. "An' we missed it! Blast. . .!"

I watched as his entire act collapsed and he pouted like a child. "Hey," I said suddenly, grabbing his attention. "It could've been one of your friends – the guy who was on the other end of the killing. Have you thought of that?"

He stared at me like I was completely incompetent. "There's no friendship in piracy, poppet."

"You call yourselves righteous."

"Never said such a thing, pretty lass. Fight for ourselves, that's all."

I shook my head. This wasn't my place, but I could leave some mark. "You live with these men, and you don't care for their well being whatsoever?"

His aged, sun-worn face twisted into restrained fury – not the defensiveness I'd been prepared for. His low voic9/e sent dull shivers through my spine. "That's jus' about enough from you."

I jumped back when a short blade swiped up between our faces. My heart raced. Instinct immediately kicked in – I braced myself to run. The more I inched backward, the closer the knife came to my throat.

"What do you think?" He queried. "Tell the bleedin' Cap'n ye fell overboard, aye? Maybe claim we thought you were a special present to the crew?"

"Wouldn't do that if I was you, mate," the pirate behind him urged nervously. "Captain'll 'ave your head if you touch 'er."

I locked eyes with the monster in front of me, his blade inches from my throat. I watched his eyes flame+89. My back touched the wall – I was trapped. My heart beat wildly in my ears, my head pounded, my hands grasped Jack's coat.

_So this is how you die_. It's one of those questions you have your whole life, and finally, you just don't wonder it anymore. . .

The blade touched my throat, and pressed hard. His yellow-green eyes flashed with insanity and his hand holding the knife twitched – my eyes snapped shut. My heart skipped a beat, and then began again. I opened one eye, then the other.

He was laughing and waving the blade in my face – the clean blade. My hands shot up to my throat. I was alive, he hadn't killed me.

The two pirates said nothing, but backed away quietly before disappearing up the stairs. I watched after them, my hands still groping my throat. When I realized I wasn't breathing, I had to catch my breath, settling myself on the bottom stair.

It was only seconds later when I heard Jack's lazy, yet graceful steps descend the stairs. "Carrie?"

"Yeah – yeah, fine." I slid up the wall into a standing position, letting my hands fall to my sides.

He opened his mouth to speak, observed me, then closed it. Tilting his head, his hesitant gestures toward the upper deck let me know he was very much suspicious. "That, love. . .was the pirate I just happen not to trust."

I cleared my throat and shrugged. "And why's that?"

Jack never broke eye contact. Evenly, he said, "I've got my reasons."

"Reasons," I repeated. "So why do you let him stay?"

"Good pirate. Most of us aren't very trustworthy from the beginnin', darlin'," Jack said simply. "You've got your reasons, too, I'd imagine." He took a step closer. His boots thudded like my heartbeat against the wooden floorboards. Jack's jaw raised slightly and his voice was low and expectant, "What'd he do?"

Not realizing my fingers were curled lightly around my throat, I averted my eyes. I had no intention of telling Jack any of what had happened – not if I was trying to prove to him I could take care of myself. He wasn't fooled. His dark eyes trailed from my eyes to my hand. Reaching up, he slid my hand from my throat and lifted my chin with his finger. I slid from his gaze after a moment, knowing he had to see the light indentation the blade must've made.

"I see it, love," he said grimly.

I turned away from him. "What happened to that pirate? The one that killed that man?"

"He's locked in the brig. You don't have to worry."

"Gee, I've heard that one before. 'I've warned them, love, captain's orders'." I winced inwardly at my dull impression of Jack. "The next minute, I'm attacked with a blade by a psycho pirate."

"An' yet just a moment before that, you said you didn't need me to look after you."

"Jack! I don't. I just don't know my way around, I don't know who to avoid. Just help me out a little, that's all. Even if you just keep your eye on that pirate. He is your guy, right? You're the boss."

"He won't be doin' that to ye again, love, you can trust that."

"Well, what else really was I expecting being aboard a pirate ship?"

"Don't let 'im fool you. Not all of us are like him. There are good men, too. Like Gibbs."

"And you," I added with no delay.

He nodded humbly. "A crew like my own – unconventional, really, but good pirates." Jack paused, then gestured toward his cabin. "Now how about we get you out of those wet clothes, aye?"

I smiled slightly at his word choice which I knew he snuck in purposely as if I wouldn't notice. "You mean how about I get me out of these wet clothes?" I smiled and disappeared into the cabin.

From inside, I heard him sigh and lean against the door. "An' it's jus' that time, love. What say you to goin' up on the deck for a bit? Show you a lot about the life of a pirate?"

I was hesitant, but slowly, I agreed out of pure curiosity. "Okay. I'll be out in a second."


	6. All We Have

Chapter Six - All We Have

He was on the deck. My very own, slice-and-dice pirate whose razor sharp cutlass wasn't sold separately. He made sure to give me a knowing, promising glare as I moved past him, even with Jack – his captain and leader – at my side.

I made sure to avoid the blood stain on the deck, but Jack noticed my discomfort as we stepped over it. "Don't have to worry. Few more showers an' it'll be gone," Jack promised. He barely got his sentence out before I seized his arm.

I lost my breath. The sea no longer stretched to the endless, clear sky. It stretched to the gentle swirls of pinks and oranges. The sun was nestled into the edge of the sea inside the vortex of pastels. My first thought was that it would be gone soon. The empowering desire to speak fell upon me. "This is it. Isn't it?"

Jack was smiling, sensing my eagerness. I slapped the back of my hand lightly to his chest. "Isn't it?" I repeated.

"It is."

"This is why you're a pirate."

"Well, yes – not entirely, o' course."

"Yeah. But, this is definitely a big part of it," I pressed on, wanting to get as much out of him as I could.

"The sea, yes. I mean, a ship, a sunset, the sea. It's one of those cycles. The ship sails to the sunset on the sea, an' if the ship never reaches that sunset. . . your cycle is ruined." There was simplicity to his words, but the meaning was so much deeper. Everything was there in those words – the dangers and the pleasantries of piracy. He used his hands to speak. I even found myself utterly believing that had he not even said a word, by reading his hands, I would've understood his metaphor. Jack pointed far out into the ocean although we both knew there was nothing there except for water. "An' a pirate – we depend on that cycle."

". . .Because it's all you have," I finished quietly, understanding. It was silent for a second until I sighed heavily. I slipped my arm through his and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Don't get me wrong, love. I wouldn't have it any other way."

I learned a lot from Jack Sparrow that night. Apparently there was a little more to piracy than murderous, drunken rage, and a bit more came to the pirate captain than I'd at first imagined. Sunsets must've been his weakness.

When we went back down to his cabin, he closed the door behind us and checked the lock twice.

"That was beautiful," I said, and not for the first time that night.

Jack must have been drinking earlier on the deck, because the sway in his walk was unusually emphatic. I stood slowly to meet his height and crossed my arms. "Well, Captain Jack Sparrow, you've been drinking."

He waved his arm in front of his face passively. His usually honest, gentle eyes came alive with a swift sort of untidiness. Jack slipped his jacket off and unintentionally dropped it to the ground near his desk. His hands curled at his sides and he reached up to whisk the side of my face. To me, his eyes became nearly emotionless, if not silently impatient.

Jack Sparrow leaned forward. My shoulders tightened, my own fists clenched. Anger seethed through my body and my only outlet was in my arm. Muscles twitched, my power seemingly lent its entire self in one, quick strike to his cheek. I almost apologized when his drunken, glassy eyes snapped closed very briefly.

"W'ot was that for?"

I was outraged. "Jack!"

His arms flailed to his sides. "Carrie!" he mimicked in some way of presenting his utter confusion.

He even had the audacity to play innocent. "You were trying to kiss me."

He eyes read to me, _Yes, and. . .?_

It took everything I had not to snap my other hand up and slap his other cheek. Instead, I whipped past him, nudging his shoulder with my own in the process.

"Careful, Jack, one more drink and that would've knocked you off your feet."

"Carrie. Where ye goin'? You don't need to be runnin' off, gettin' yerself into any more trouble," he said plainly, following me nearly at my heels.

"Oh, it's nice to know what you think of me. So now I just go out and _look _for trouble, right?"

"Tha's not what I meant," he drawled, raising his finger.

"Not what you meant. . ." I murmured disbelievingly to myself.

"Why are we even trying to get along, tell me this, Carrie?" Jack queried, suddenly serious.

Each word made every sense in the world, but the answer was completely lost to me. I opened my mouth slightly, but ultimately shrugged, showing my defeat. "I don't know. You're a pirate. . .I'm not."

"How 'bout you're from the future. . .? That's a big one, as well, aye?"

"Actually, you're from the past," I informed him.

"And exactly how did you conclude this, darlin'?"

I rolled my eyes. "Never mind. Look, just as long as we get me home – soon – I don't care who's from where."

"Fine."

I nodded firmly once to him, crossed my arms, and left his cabin. He called after me once, but I ignored him.

On the deck, I couldn't find Mr. Gibbs. I'd wanted to talk to him previously. He seemed nice – gentlemanly, even. The older pirate wasn't anywhere to be found.

Anna Maria was at the helm, one arm flailed across her forehead, blocking the crisp, midnight wind from her eyes.

Jack's white shirt whipped around me. The temperature had dropped considerably, magnified by the mist of the ocean which lifted with the uncomfortable breeze as if a light rain was beginning to fall.

Seconds passed – minutes, they dragged so slowly that I could barely understand time. The process was numbing. Waves crushed waves, the ship drove down on them – suffocating them. For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I felt the waves suffocate me. My breaths came in short, tight gasps.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly overwhelmed. I wasn't bothered with too many classes, suffocated with homework or math equations that didn't make sense; I was lost, suffocated by waves and pirates – two, maybe three, hundred years ago.

Becoming so entirely lost in the complete insanity of my movie-material situation, I leaned over the side of the ship, my arms falling limp as if to reach the water below.

"Don't fall in, lass – sharks aren't as friendly as you'd think."

I'd know the voice anywhere. That gritty voice I used to hear in nightmares. My mind was forced to focus at that moment. I whipped into a standing position and met those yellow eyes, surprised when I didn't see his knife at my throat.

"Capt'n sure doesn't mind leavin' you all 'lone with his good pirate mateys as of late, aye?"

"I can take care of myself."

"Yer nothin' but a burden on this ship. . .but ye are a pretty, little lassie, aren't ye?"

"Burden?"

"Cap'n hasn't been 'imself. Almost got us all killed back at Tortuga. All in knots, he was – waiting to come back, keep watch o'er the _Pearl_ an' his new trollop!"

"So this is about – what? – jealousy? I'm taking up too much of your pirate-captain bonding time? Not leaving a large enough margin of time to go raid and plunder?"

He turned his head and spat.

It was then I noticed the sword he held at his side. I choked out a harsh chuckle that sounded more to my ears like a cry. Still, I couldn't help the mix of fear and adrenaline. I would not be bullied.

The pirate wouldn't know that – not yet.

I fixed my voice to quiver. "What are you gonna do?"

He laughed heartily and threw his head back. Cleverly, I took advantage of the moment and swiftly swung my knee high into his crotch. The laugh turned quickly into a groan of pain and his sword clattered to the ground. I wasted no time retrieving it.

The pirate was on his feet though, more quickly than I had anticipated. His leg shot out and whipped my feet from beneath me. I clattered to the floor, but retaliated by thrusting the sword upward.

It tore his shirt and left a bloody tear in his stomach. He screamed, throwing himself on top of me and violently crushing my wrists against the deck, doing anything he could to take the sword. I would never let him have it. I refused to die in the hands of this monster.

Thrashing, my mind focused on being free, but was otherwise blank. He back-handed me – and freed his hand from my wrist just long enough for me to bring the sword up. . .only to have it clatter from my grasp.

I cried out, desperate to come out the winner in retrieving the weapon. He kicked it with his foot, releasing me. Scrambling to my feet, I threw myself to the side of the ship.

He clumsily grabbed hold of the heavy sword. Serious for a moment, his demeanor fell back into the lazy, oafish arrogance he'd previously possessed. Now, those yellow eyes were nearly on fire. I eyed the weapon he held before him.

"I'll be damned. . ." he murmured darkly.

Instincts kicked in, tiny alarms rung in my head. I looked around frantically. No way out. Nothing but to outrun him, but he was so close. Suddenly, the sounds of waves rushed me. I could jump, fall into the water. He surely couldn't follow me. But, I would die, still. Starve, drown, be dinner for the sharks. _Anna Maria_, I remembered! But she was gone. . .

_Jack. . .? Mr. Gibbs? Any half-decent pirate. . .anywhere?_

_No. . . just you and him. Didn't those karate lessons from Dad teach you anything? _

I closed my eyes, desperate – watching him close in on me. "Goodbye, darlin'. It was a pleasure," he muttered sarcastically.

He thrust the sword at me. And I ducked, planted the left foot, swung the right leg – and sent a strong, ruthless elbow into his ribs. I thought I felt them crack, felt him stumble – and felt the sword slice my arm.

I barely felt the pain. My adrenaline rushed, I struggled to back away, make space, but not let him go. The sword hilt nearly fell into my hand, and I struggled with its weight momentarily. The pirate cried out, cursed me and brought back his lethal fist.

Without a second thought, I drove the sword into his chest with both hands – feeling it hit bone. It was the worst feeling I'd ever experienced. . .followed very closely by the most victorious I'd ever felt before. My body experienced emotions I'd never known existed. I was changed. A different person; I could never be the same I'd been just moments ago, and I didn't know what that meant.

I watched him die and fall to the ground. It was a odd moment to suddenly feel the pain in my arm, but it was then I grasped the bloody cut.

I didn't cry. I couldn't. – Mourn, I would not. I murdered somebody.

Very simply, I walked away from the corpse. Dragging my feet, I moved down the steps to the cabins and stood outside of Jack's door. He would be asleep by now – or, more specifically, he would be passed out.

I opened his door and moved inside. It was dark. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. Jack took in a breath – a sharp one. He was awake, and very much aware.

"Carrie?"

Even clogged with sleep, his voice was very strong.

"Yeah," I replied.

"You all right, love?"

I felt him stand. His voice came closer, and I heard him step on a creak in the floorboards.

"Have you. . .have you ever killed anybody?" I questioned simply as if asking about the weather.

He paused in the darkness, somewhere a few feet away. "Yea. 'Course I have. Why. . .what's –?"

I reached out and my hand grazed him. . .and what I assume to have been his bare chest. "I haven't. Never saw anyone die. At least not before I came here."

"What? Carrie. . ."

He came closer and my eyes adjusted. I could see the outline of his shoulders, his hair was tied loosely back and his bandana was tight around his forehead. It was the first time I'd seen him like that.

I touched his shoulder, and finally saw his eyes. The dark orbs found me quickly, and I assumed he could see me better, as I was paler, and my eyes, just a bit lighter of a brown than his.

"I killed him."

"Killed who?"

"That pirate."

Jack shook his head, but slowly, I felt him slide his hand to the cut the dead man had left on my neck.

"You. . .killed him?" Jack questioned slowly, his brow creasing, his jaw tightening in recognition.

"He threatened me. He cut me – "

I slid his hand down my arm and his hand brushed my blood-soaked arm. It was then he tugged me closer, observing my arm. "Ow, Jack!" I hissed.

His grip loosened and I slipped away from him to retrieve a lantern from outside of his cabin. When the light filled the room, I was able to take in his appearance. Wearing only his black pants, he looked amazing.

"And he hit you." Jack's hand ran along my cheek. I could see the edges of his jaw clench in the shadows.

I'd almost forgotten, but as he reminded me, I realized the back-hand must've busted my cheek. "But I did it," I murmured. Reeling a little from the rush of emotion I'd experienced, I said, "I took care of myself. Just like I told you."

Jack supported me, hugging me to him so I could rest for a moment. His arms were tense around me. "Yeah. . . it's more than that, though, me darlin'."

"I'm a murderer, I know that," I said into his chest.

He laughed lightly, hard enough so I could hear the rumble inside his chest. "You learned something very few of us in this world learn. The power of true victory, defense. To do it, you had to kill a man. Take a life. And rightfully so. A lesson I'd rather you have not learned."

"I don't know who I was back there. I just. . .killed."

He pulled back and watched me closely, intensifying the moment. "And you just lived. Not unscarred, but alive, nonetheless."

It was then he really saw me, I suppose, because his face fell and twisted in near-misery. It was my turn to recognize his emotion. "No, no, no. Don't even try making this about you, Jack Sparrow. Not your fault." I sighed. "I just need some time. Maybe a bandage."

That night, Jack wasn't the dutiful captain of the most feared ship in the Caribbean. He was a friend, a listener, a nurse – and a talker. He told me about his plans, some of his dreams and discoveries. A different man. I knew he was trying to make me forget about what had occurred, and perhaps make himself forget momentarily as well.

"Where do you want to end up?" I finally asked, hours later, curled up Indian-style in his bed.

Jack was spread in the chair mere inches from the bed, slouched down, his arms over the sides of the chair arms, and his fingers nearly scraping the ground. He remained shirtless. "End up? Why, right 'ere. . .On the sea."

"You mean you'll never settle anyplace but the ocean?" I asked, intrigued. "All of this traveling on the sea, it's like you never get anywhere. That's how you want to. . .end it all?"

"That's right – be my grave, the ocean will." As he had been doing for some time now, Jack turned the conversation over onto the subject of me. "And you, Carrie? Tell me your story, as you are so anxious to hear old Jack's."

"I don't really have one."

"No story? No grand tragedy or adventures to share?"

"Nope. I have minimal interesting details." It was true. Jack's life was absolutely storybook. Mine. . .basic and run-of-the-mill. "I'm just some teenager from Pennsylvania. Parents still have complete control of me. Well, until the twelfth, then I'm eighteen and I'm on my own. Finally. . ." I smiled at the thought.

Jack touched his chin and then pointed his index finger in a gesture of thought. "Carrie – 'tis the twelfth."

He was right. The early morning light began to pour into the cabin. It was the eighteenth anniversary of my birth. I had big plans for this day – and instead, I was here. Jack must've recognized my moment of thought, because he stood up and offered me a hand. "Well, if 'tis in fact your birthday, a day of celebration is very much necessary. . .and well-deserved."

I shook my head and my eyes widened. "Jack, no, no, no. Not a chance. Celebrate with a bunch of pirates? I don't think so."

"And why not?" he questioned, very offended. "My dear, you're never celebrated until you've celebrated with a bunch o' merry pirates, you've my word."

"Your word?" I chuckled, staring into Jack's dark, earnest eyes. "Fine. But no birthday punches, pinches. . .spankings - or birthday anything-elses."

Thanks bunches for all those great reviews – InToDepp, Captain-Ammie (sorry 'bout the name thing, my bad!), Gremblin, Mrs Capt Jack Sparrows, and VioletAshkevron. I really appreciate the comments, very inspirational. ;-D

Sarah-


	7. Birthday Celebration

Chapter Seven - Birthday Celebration

I partied. Celebrated heartily, if you will. The pirates welcomed me – or at least welcomed the willing occasion to drink bottomless barrels of rum. I've always been my own person, never really gave in to any sort of peer pressure. . .

Until that day. It was so tempting, it was my birthday – and Jack, oh-so-very convincing. I began drinking the rum in the early afternoon, and needless to day, by mid afternoon, my speech was slurred, my walk was unsteady, and Jack's face was quite blurry before my eyes.

"Love, you can't hold your alcohol. . ." Jack murmured, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

Drunk and defensive, I shoved my elbow into his stomach. I couldn't process a comeback to shoot back at him, so instead I chose to excuse the remark. I shook my finger at him and dropped the bottle of rum back onto the table.

I felt absolutely great. Jack had patched my arm and my cheek up earlier, causing post-injury achiness – but now I was numb. I was no longer trapped on a pirate ship, but instead partying. . .It was perfect.

Perfect at least for the next half-hour or so. Perfect while I leaned drunkenly against Jack's arm and bellowed with laughter like an idiot. Perfect until I began to feel overheated and unbuttoned Jack's white shirt just about the whole way down, completely forgetting my surrounding and company. Perfect until the nausea.

"Love, you're sick. . ." Jack mumbled, chuckling with subtle amusement. I felt his hand crawl innocently beneath the back of my shirt and rub my lower back. Urging me to the side of the ship, Jack stayed with me through my drunken sickness. I felt hot and disgusting and I suddenly hated rum. The ship was my support for a long moment until I heard Jack gently say my name. I shifted my weight into a standing position until I felt myself nearly unconsciously shift against him.

"Off we go then," he said, sliding his arms down around me and lifting me over his shoulder.

I groaned lightly. "Ja-ack. . ."

"You're drunk, love. A good rest will do ye some good."

He took the stairs quite gently, but it was still fairly disruptive to my stupor.

Moments later, Jack slid me back over his shoulder to stand before him. I didn't move for a moment, but clutched his vest in my hands gently. He watched me carefully, and I swayed slightly in his arms, smelling the freshness of the sea on him. I barely noticed him ease me back into the bed. For a moment, I thought I felt him lying over me, but soon realized he was only kissing my brow.

It was then I clutched his forearms. It was then when I used them to pull me up into a sitting position. Then when I felt him help me stand, pinning myself against his chest. A moment later, my back was to the wall. His callused hands tore his own shirt from my body, fiddled with the lace to my pants.

My hands played in his hair, tugged at his bandana, and slid down to his shirt.

"Carrie. . ."

"Jack –" My breath caught in my throat when his shirt fell to the ground. His bare, well-toned chest was against my own – the coldness of the wall sent shivers through my body. His lips met mine, and I groaned into his mouth.

_I don't know him that well! And you're drunk! So is he. But, he's so warm – so promising. _And I was lost in him.

I paused heavily, leaving us both frozen, completely naked, our arms around each other. We didn't move for a long moment until he slowly shifted my leg onto his hip. He was watching me, his eyes boring into mine, but I would not look at him. Not in this situation – I could barely remember my own name. I didn't know what I was doing!

He didn't budge. Not until he tilted my chin up so I could see his eyes. The fear in my own eyes must've reflected into his, because it was all I could see.

"What are you waiting for?" I questioned.

Jack shook his head, and swiftly pulled his arms from around me. I fell gently against the wall and stared at him. He tossed his jacket to me to cover up and proceeded to pull on his pants. "Sorry, love – but, I can't." His voice was coated with regret.

"What. . .Jack – why?" I asked, angrily throwing his jacket to the ground. "I'm that revolting to you. . .?"

"No. 'Course you're not revolting, Carrie. You're young. . .inexperienced. I just can't take that away. . ." He couldn't look at me.

"Take what away, Jack? You think I've never done this?" I slurred, completely lying through my teeth.

"You haven't, love – I can tell." He stared at me with generous pride in his eyes.

I blinked away biting tears and turned away from him, suddenly too exposed. Fumbling with words, I said, "You don't know me. . .How dare you. . ." As I bent to clothe myself in his shirt once more, he spun to face me.

"Oh, better than you imagine. Not too difficult, you see." Jack shook his head and took a sigh. "You've seen enough on my ship – explored too many new experiences. I don't need to add another to yer list, Carrie, you understand."

I burned my eyes into his own. Gritting my teeth, I stared him down. "I'm not a child."

Jack turned away once again, bringing his hand to his mustache and shaking his head. "Carrie. . .get into bed. You need to sleep."

"Why – because I'm drunk? 'Can't hold your alcohol, love'. . ." I mimicked, moving closer to him. "I'm holding it a lot better than you. Look at you, you coward."

I was in his face, but his eyes were unwavering. Not a single flicker of emotion ran through the dull brown circles. Like I'd said before, there's no use fighting with a drunk.

Before I knew what was happening, his hands had grabbed my upper arms and were pushing me into the wall. He was gripping me roughly, kissing and nipping at my neck. My arms began to ache and I wriggled to get away.

"Jack."

"Wo't, love? You don't like it? This is what a pirate does, Carrie – it's what you wanted, no?"

"No!" I shoved Jack away with everything I had. "What do you think you're doing?"

Jack was smug. His shoulders tilted and he eyed me with those dark, knowing eyes. I felt about as big as an ant.

"I hate what you do to me. I hate how you make me feel. I hate you."

I don't think I'd ever quite seen that look on his face before – on anyone. I can't exactly describe it, and I can't even begin to explain the million different emotions that I saw in it. Disappointment, simple sadness, confusion. . . It was a painful moment. One that still remains clear even in the murkiness of the alcohol.

". . .And I love you," I whispered.

That was where his expression took a turn for the worst. I'd just sputtered out some of the most meaningful words ever to escape my mouth – and Jack Sparrow stood before me, mustering the audacity to actually roll his eyes with a scoff. I wanted to smack him, but at the same time, I wanted to hug him and ask him to love me back.

"What the hell was that?" I questioned, raising my voice just a bit.

"Carrie – you're drunk. Get into bed. Just sleep off this idiocy. You don't know what you're saying."

I shook my head. There was no way I was going through this again. I was absolutely drained, practically begging him for some sort of compliance, but he wasn't listening. Falling back into the bed, I tugged up the blankets and listened as he plopped into the chair with a heavy sigh.


	8. Under Attack

Chapter Eight - Under Attack

To put it bluntly: that next morning, I had a killer hangover. It's pretty safe to say I looked like hell and could barely stand without getting severely dizzy. Jack was asleep in the chair. His upper body was folded halfway over the left side of the chair, resting on his arm. He'd kicked off his boots during the night and his legs were stretched comfortably. My stomach twisted to watch him. I could barely understand this man. Perhaps I'd been trying too hard, I wondered. Was I looking for something that wasn't there? Maybe I was expecting something that Jack simply wasn't?

I decided to leave it at that. Jack just wasn't this compliant, understanding person I'd been so easy to assume he was. Sure, he was a caring guy that would do pretty much anything for somebody he cared about – he certainly looked for the good in people, but something just wasn't there I'd initially thought I'd seen.

My mind was dotted with these empty moments that I couldn't seem to recollect, but one stood out very clearly. I found myself blushing even at the thought of what Jack and I had almost done. I was embarrassed and disappointed. . .but at the same time, I was incredibly grateful for Jack's decision. Still, I would never admit that to him.

"_. . .And I love you."_ _Oh, God. . .the crazy, drunk girl must learn to keep her mouth shut._

I sat up in the bed and leaned my shoulder against the pillows, watching him. He was sleeping a bit more quietly than he was that first night I'd been forced to lay awake next to him. His brow was slightly creased as if he were dreaming. I was startled when his expression slowly changed and a smirk began to form on his lips. His eyes remained closed as I heard him say, "You're watchin' me." Jack's eyebrows rose and his eyes slowly opened, fixed straight on me.

I wanted to smile and even blush, but instead I slid back down beneath the sheets and turned my back to him. I could hear him shift in the chair behind me and sigh heavily.

"Carrie. . ." he whispered.

"I'm not talking to you."

"Okay, then – let me. I like you. . .ye listen, ye understand – 'least ye try. Not that it all matters, really. It's just my opinion. Don't get me wrong, love, it's a valuable one at that. Ye jest 'bout appeared from nowhere. S'all a mystery, still to me, love, but things have pretty much spun 'round 'ere since then. Pirates – we don't 'ave relationships. Not with each other, no friendships, nothin' usually. Lonely business, piracy is. An' it's my life. We don't get each other, so that's what this prob'em is here – with us." Jack sighed and I could practically hear the anxiety in it. "Cap'n Jack isn't one for sharin', love – truth is, this is easier with you 'avin yer 'ead buried in that pillow there, but I need for ye to look at me now, Carrie."

I quickly debated in my head if I should comply, and was very pleased with myself when I made it evident that I was hesitating as I turned slowly around the face him. Jack was leaning forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at me – actually looking deeply – with those naturally intense eyes.

"Do ye understand, love? Where I'm comin' from?"

It was my defensive wall that I felt slowly lift to protect me from this turn down. I tried to mentally drop it back down, but I'd had enough vulnerability on this little adventure to last me a lifetime. Instead, I just nodded.

He stared dully at me.

"What?" I asked. "Did you expect me to cry or something? Because you turned me down? I don't know what you want from me, Jack. First you coddle me, act like Mr. Daddy-Overprotective, then you try to kiss me and tell me I'm some sort of tiny, delicate, naive child after getting me _drunk_. I mean – what is this? Am I some sort of game for you, Jack? Is that it?"

"No. 'Course not, Carrie! Wha' do ye think I am?" Jack's eyes flared for a moment, but settled quickly. "Look. . ."

I got to my feet before him.

"No – I don't get you, Jack. I just don't. And I'm starting to really not want to." I shook my head, helpless for words. "You just. . .you can't play with people's emotions like this. You have to choose here. These games. . .I mean just tell me what you feel!"

"I thought I jus' did. . ."

I mustered everything I could. "Well, I don't accept that. You wanted to know if I understand everything? Well, I don't. So, try again." He stayed silent. Momentarily desperate, I moved closer to him. "I have nothing left, Jack. In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty much alone here, and. . .!"

"Cap'n!"

Mr. Gibbs slammed open the door, his eyes blazing with urgency. "There's a ship roundin' up on our stern. Doesn't look good."

"What? What are you talking about? Jack?" I panicked.

"An attack." Jack was on his feet and fleeing out the door with Gibbs before I could even reply.

"Wait, Jack –"

He spun and gripped my shoulders. "No. Do not move." Jack let go and began to walk again. "You hear me, love? Don't move."

I hugged my shoulders and closed the door swiftly, panic rising through my stomach and throat. Canon fire wracked the ship, and for a long moment, it was all I could hear. I dove beneath Jack's desk and put my head in my hands. Gruesome shouts and men's savage screams intensified every bone in my body. I knew I was beneath murder and bloodshed – like a war was unfolding above my head.

The chaos must've lasted for nearly a half of an hour. When it was over, there was dead silence above. Erie silence – it was so still, even so far below, I could hear my heart beating faster with every dead beat of the quiet.

"Somebody move. . .somebody do something. . . please." I got to my feet in a hurry, desperate and concerned, and wasted no time running for the door. As I threw it open, I came face to face with Jack. My eyes widened, my heart nearly stopped. His shirt was torn almost completely from his body. There was blood soaking slowly but surely through the white shirt. His dark eyes sighed in relief.

"Oh, God. . .Jack."

He took a step closer, but nearly fell atop my shoulders in his attempt. I reached out for him and placed myself against him, beneath his arms to hold him up.

". . .Terribly sorry, love. Seems there were a bit more than we could. . . leisurely handle." Jack's eyes drifted closed as I walked him back into his cabin, leading him to the bed.

_He's talking_, I thought. _That's a good sign_.

"Jack. . .Jack. Stay awake." I guided him against the pillows and looked around frantically for something to slow the bleeding. "Calm down — it's all you here, Carrie," I told myself. Deciding to make quick, unwavering decisions in this moment of pure anxiety, I moved to the closet and pulled out one of Jack's many simple, white shirts.

"Okay, Jack." I kneeled next to him. "You good? Where are you hurt? Talk to me."

Jack's hand drifted up to his chest where he began to unbutton what was left of his shirt. "Here," he croaked. He pushed away the bloody white shirt from his chest.

The blood was unbearable. "Jack. . ."

"S'okay, love. Doesn't hurt."

I knew he was lying. It wasn't even this unsaid thing – because we both knew it, but the cold comfort offered neither of us security. It hadn't been a cut after all – it was a stab wound just a few inches above his bellybutton. Quickly, I gathered myself and gently placed the shirt on it. He hissed beneath his breath and I had to look away.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Not anywhere that won't be healed in a few days. Not to worry, Carrie."

Until this day, I will never understand how, at that very moment, Jack Sparrow was able to actually stare straight into my eyes and grin.

"What about everyone else?"

"They're all right – most of them, anyway."

"Most?"

Jack looked at me and I knew something wasn't right. "Don't worry."

"What about Mr. Gibbs?"

"He's all right. . . bit scratched up s'all."

"Okay, well, how did _this _happen?" I asked, pressing just a little harder on his wound.

"Just a mistake. Thought I had things under control. . .let my guard down."

"And the person that did this to you. . .?"

". . .An' you also don't have to worry 'bout him. He's –"

"Swimming with the fishies?" I piped.

"Guess ye could say that."

I sighed, collected and calm. My eyes drifted across his chest, and for the first time, I noticed two healed, but incredibly vicious, bullet holes in his chest. He noticed, because he said, "Not the first battle-wound for ol' Jack. An' certainly not the last."

When I looked up toward his face, I saw a grim, almost sad expression on his face. I sighed and shook my head. "Jack – about earlier. . .I shouldn't have attacked you like that. I understand everything, I mean. . .this can never be anything. I know that."

Jack smiled slightly and reached a gently trembling hand to my cheek. "Yer. . . incredibly remarkable. . . Carrie. An' I do wish things were diff'rent."

I nodded, letting tears fill the corners of my eyes. "Me, too."

It was a silent moment of closure. At that very strikingly painful moment, I felt my heart break and sink to the shallowest pit of my soul. Quietly, as I stared into his faraway eyes, I felt like I was saying goodbye to the one thing I've ever felt close to.


End file.
